A Safe Space
by Lucy Kent
Summary: The story behind why Petunia knows about Harry before he appears on their doorstep.


**I was rereading Harry Potter (big surprise) and I ran into an interesting detail.**

**Somehow Petunia knew about Harry and the fact that he was her nephew before he ever arrived on their doorstep. If she never contacted her sister, how could it be possible. And this my story was born.**

* * *

The first letter she received, she burned without reading. Her bitterness had grown over the years. The second letter she hesitated before ripping it to shreds and throwing it away. The third one she read. Lily wrote that she really wanted to see Petunia. She wrote about inconsequential things, but Petunia's eyes greedily drank in the bits of gossip her perfect sister and slipped in. Even though the letter asked, Petunia didn't respond. Instead she stared down at the letter. She couldn't decide what to do with it. Somehow it seemed far too wrong to destroy this one. As she was trying to figure it out, she heard Vernon pull into the drive. Panic filled her, she had to hide the letter somewhere. She had to put it somewhere safe. Quickly she spotted the cupboard under the stairs. Opening it she was lucky to find an old shoebox. Putting the letter inside, she stored the box on the top shelf, knowing that Vernon would never poke around in here. His disdain for _those_ people was as strong as hers, but her conviction twinged as she shut the cupboard door.

A few days later another letter came. This time Lily wrote about a potion she was working on. Petunia wanted to glare at the paper, she wanted to be angry that Lily was talking about something she had never had the chance to experience. But her sister's nature shone through, and the process was so well explained that Petunia couldn't help but understand. And it gave her a thrill. She kept rereading the process, wondering what would happened if she tried the same thing, potions had nothing to do with magic. Right? Again she stored the letter in the shoebox in the cupboard under the stairs.

Weeks passed by and every couple of days she would get a letter from Lily. Petunia always wondered why Lily kept writing, even when she wasn't getting a response. But she did. She always had something new happening, which was a stark contrast to Petunia's constant pattern. The first change in this pattern was the late arrival of her monthly cycle. With anticipated breath held inside, she went to the doctor while Vernon was at work. She was pregnant.

Vernon was fairly indifferent to the news, and it stung Petunia. After Vernon had gone to sleep that night, Petunia crawled into the cupboard and began to reread some of the letters. Once she had a clear image of her sister in her mind she whispered, "I'm pregnant Lils."

It was only a few weeks later when she received a letter from her sister that said Lily shared the same fate. At least in being pregnant. She painted a picture of an overenthusiastic husband who was jubilant at the news. The differences in the their lives was like salt to a wound, and she put the letter away without reading it. In fact, she didn't read the next 4 letters she received.

She ignored her sister, until that fateful night. Petunia felt a rising panic fill her as she waited for Vernon to go to sleep. She lay on the bed, recalling the events of earlier that evening. They had had an argument. Something stupid, something inconsequential. But he had backhanded her. He had apologized to her, said that he just got too excited. But Petunia knew that it wasn't an accident. She had seen his eyes when he had done it. Had seen his eyes after. When Vernon was well and truly asleep, Petunia crawled into the cupboard under the stairs. Her safe place. She took the time to savor each detail of Lily's life.

* * *

It was in her second trimester that Petunia wrote Lily back. It wasn't nearly as long as Lily's letters. It was merely one word. But what else could Petunia say? When the owl delivered her letter, she handed her own to it and watched as it flew away. "Hello." The next letter didn't acknowledge her word. Petunia couldn't help but withdraw from her sister after that. What she didn't know is that the letter had never even made it to Lily. The bird had been killed after stumbling into a battle. The note had been lost forever. But Petunia couldn't have known that, she didn't even realize that this was a different bird then the previous.

It was during her third Trimester that everything changed. Vernon had come home early to check on her and had been met by Lily's letter. He stormed into the room clutching the letter in his fist. "What is this?"

Petunia kept her face bland, "I don't know. What is it?"

Vernon waved the letter in the air. "Its a letter from you sister! Have you been communicating with _her_ with _THEM?_" He roared. She crawled into a fetal position, her subconscious fearing for her child. She shook her head at him. "You better not be. I married you because of your strong conviction against _their_ kind. I don't know if I could live with a wife who was sympathetic to their cause."

"I'm not!" Petunia asserted. What she really wanted to do was cry and beg, but she was afraid for her own child and held her wish back, unsure how he would react to such a violent emotion. Vernon nodded, the purple in his face fading to a more natural red. She watched as he walked over to the fireplace and threw the letter in. Petunia was glad that her face showed no emotions and she was able to hold in the flinch.

* * *

Petunia was both worried and glad that a month and a half passed before the next letter arrived. Vernon had finally stopped being on the look and was at work. Lily said that something had come up and she had been in hiding for a while. For the first time, Petunia wondered whether Lily really had the more pleasant life between them. But Lily went on mostly about her newborn son. Harry. It was easy to see the boy with all the description Lily gave her. Petunia couldn't help wondering if she would meet her nephew someday. Certainly not with Vernon around. But maybe one day.

A few weeks around Christmas, a bird flew into the house. Vernon froze, as did Petunia. Dudders was happily splashing his hand in the baby food. But neither parent cared as the bird dropped an envelope on the table before them. Seconds later the envelope opened and a voice surrounded them. With a pang, Petunia realized that it was her sister's voice.

"You are cordially invited to the Potter's Christmas Celebration. Lily and James also wish to present their new son, Harry, to friends and family. On the 22nd of July, at approximately 4:30pm, please grab the envelope to be transported to the gathering." The letter fell silent, and all Petunia could hear was her heart.

"What filth!" Vernon growled, and Petunia watched with near panic as her husbands hand clenched into a fist within easy reach of their child. So she did the only thing she knew how. She nodded her head, grabbed the invitation, and threw it into the fire. From Vernon's approving look she knew that she had done well enough. For now.

LINE

The last week of September brought the last letter Petunia would ever receive from Lily. Lily explained, in very vague terms, the her son was in danger. She was going into hiding. She wouldn't be able to write again until after she had avoided danger. But the words that stuck with Petunia the most was the Postscript.

_Petunia. There are many terrible men who would hurt you because you are my sister. I don't know if you are reading these, if you are, please remember all the hatred you held for me as a child. Don't let it go. If anyone knows you are on my side, it could get you killed. Please be safe._

Some part of Petunia's brain knew that Lily was talking about whoever she was hiding from, but she couldn't help remember the pain of her husband backhanding her. She touched it gingerly, even though it had healed a while ago. So she decided to do what Lily had suggested. She put the last letter into the letterbox, flattened it as much as she could, then squeezed it between where the top shelf and the ceiling met. She stood back to admire her handiwork and knew that even someone who knew this cupboard inside and out would never notice.

* * *

When she found the baby, she found the note. As she read the words, Petunia felt her heart tighten, but she could hear Vernon coming down the stairs to see why she screamed. She quickly schooled her face into one of disgust, a face that Vernon never seemed to see through. Vernon's first reaction to the child was to put it in an orphanage. Petunia shook her head and whispered about the neighbors. Those kind of things got around. He then suggested putting her nephew out of his misery. Petunia had pulled the babe from him than. With a glare she walked toward the cupboard. She kicked the door open and pulled a spare blanket down from the shelf, making a miniature net she lay the babe down and watched as he fell asleep.

"What are we going to do with another child?" Vernon roared.

Petunia shushed him. "We will care for him. He can stay in the cupboard," _where it's safe_ she muttered to herself. "When he gets older we will put him to work. But for now he is merely a child."

"But what if he is like them?"

"We will make sure that that isn't the case." Her tone implied that it would disgust her if he ever did learn, instead she was busy thinking of those who had killed her sister. They would surely come for her Nephew, and she would protect him from that. At least to the best of her ability.

LINE

Years later as they packed up and left Harry to what his fate was, she couldn't help take the time to pull a flattened shoe box out from the cupboard. She held them to her chest, gathering the courage in them. They didn't need a safe place anymore, because she was going to make everywhere safe for them. And that meant facing her husband. And potentially her son. But the regret of never being able to meet with her sister, only firmed her resolve. And after all of that was finished, she would find and apologize to Harry herself. She eyed the box. She would also present the box to him. If he wanted it.

* * *

**You should let me know what you think, regardless of whether you like it ro not.**


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